The blind boss's nanny

Dr. Baker remained silent.

Only after Qin Xiu finished speaking did he slowly raise his eyes. As a top neurologist, he could immediately tell that Lu Tingzhao was different from ordinary people.

Baker's voice, like his appearance, has a cold quality; his standard American pronunciation is clear and detached.

"so,"

He paused, a mocking smile playing on his lips.

"You went to all that trouble to kidnap me from the other side of the world, just to... cure your chairman's eyes?"

The last three words, with a slight upward inflection at the end, broke through the polite facade maintained in the living room.

This time, it was Lu Tingzhao himself who answered him.

He calmly faced the direction from which Baker's voice came and said frankly:

"The method may be impolite, but the purpose is indeed this."

As soon as he finished speaking, Baker let out a very soft sneer from his nose.

The laughter was short, but like icicles falling to the ground, clear and sharp.

Then, he lowered his eyes again, leaned back into the sofa, and fell into complete silence.

Lin Xiaoman stood behind Lu Tingzhao, her fingers clenching unconsciously.

She had a feeling that Dr. Baker's arrival would probably not make things any easier.

Baker settled down at the manor.

On the surface, they were honored guests, enjoying the most comprehensive treatment... They lived alone in a quiet little house, and Aunt Mei personally arranged for someone to deliver their three meals a day, which were exquisite, delicious, and never repeated.

But everyone knew perfectly well that this was a form of polite imprisonment. The area around the guest house seemed deserted, but in reality, it was under surveillance everywhere, preventing him from stepping out of the manor even a step.

Lin Xiaoman saw several times that when Aunt Mei had the plates taken back, the food was almost untouched.

She often caught glimpses of that thin, pale man, standing alone by the window on the second floor of the guesthouse, gazing out without moving, his back to her lonely figure.

Lu Tingzhao tried almost every method at his disposal: coercion, bribery, reasoning, and appealing to emotions... but Baker remained as solid as ice, showing no signs of melting.

That afternoon, Lin Xiaoman brought in tea and snacks and saw that Lu Tingzhao had an unusual irritability between his brows and was pressing his temples with his fingertips.

She put down the tray, naturally turned to the side, and gently sat on his knees that were pressed together.

Lu Tingzhao paused slightly, but his arm had already instinctively wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

"Still no use?"

Lin Xiaoman leaned on his shoulder and asked softly.

"Um."

Lu Tingzhao nuzzled the top of her head with his chin, his voice deep.

"Leng Feng found him at Dr. Howard's vacation villa. After Christmas night, the doctor's family went on vacation, leaving him alone there, drunk and sleeping on the floor."

Lin Xiaoman noticed the unusual tone in his words and looked up at him:

"Doesn't he have his own home? Why is he spending the holiday at his advisor's house?"

Lu Tingzhao remained silent for a moment, then gently stroked her waist with his hand:

"The information we found shows that he completely cut off contact with his family of origin after he came of age."

"family……"

Lin Xiaoman pondered the word, lost in thought.

"Can I see his file?"

Although Lu Tingzhao was somewhat puzzled as to why she cared so much about Baker, he still pointed out that there was an encrypted file folder in her desk drawer.

Lin Xiaoman, still being held by him, stretched out her arms and leaned against him, turning over.

The information was more surprising than she had imagined. Baker came from a wealthy, long-established white family with an ancient and prestigious surname.

But this is clearly inconsistent with his distinctly Asian features.

Read on to find out: he was adopted by that family when he was a child.

What truly surprised Lin Xiaoman was a yellowed photocopy of an old photograph tucked inside the file, with a handwritten name in pinyin next to it—Dang Shen.

Codonopsis pilosula.

A Chinese name that exudes a sense of the old era, and is even a bit rustic.

She stared at those two words, and her heart inexplicably skipped a beat.

She closed the document, turned her head, looked at Lu Tingzhao's face so close to hers, and said earnestly:

"Let me bring him food next time."

Lu Tingzhao's brows furrowed immediately, and his arms tightened:

"no."

He didn't want her to get involved in this, and he was even less willing for her to get close to that unpredictable man.

Lin Xiaoman reached out and gently smoothed the wrinkles between his brows with her fingertips, her voice soft:

"Lu Tingzhao, you know in your heart that conventional methods won't work on him, right?"

Lu Tingzhao pursed his lips, not denying it.

Over the course of several days, Baker remained unmoved by money, reputation, threats, or even pleas, like a stagnant pool.

He doesn't care about those things.

Lin Xiaoman continued, her gaze returning to the document, and she recalled the solitary figure seen through the window of the guesthouse.

"But I noticed something else..."

She hesitated for a moment, then spoke, her voice even lower, almost whispering in his ear:

"I saw him from afar the day before yesterday, with his sleeves rolled up... his wrists had many marks. Old ones, new ones, some deep, some shallow..."

She felt the muscles around her arms tense up in an instant.

"He may have... had some really bad times."

She carefully chose her words, avoiding the direct use of "suicide" or "self-harm," but the meaning was already quite clear.

"A person like that has a frozen heart. Trying to warm it with fire will only make it hide even deeper."

Lu Tingzhao remained silent for a long time, his chin resting on the top of her head, his breathing heavy.

Finally, he nodded very slowly.

"Let Leng Feng follow you."

This was his biggest concession, and his voice was filled with deep concern.

"You are not allowed to see him alone, you are not allowed to get too close, and you are not allowed to talk for too long."

Three consecutive "no" statements, domineering yet unsettling.

Lin Xiaoman felt a warmth in her heart and leaned over to kiss his taut jawline.

"Understood, Chairman."

She deliberately spoke in a relaxed tone,

"I was just delivering food, and by the way... I was trying to see if I could find the only key to open that frozen door."

And the key may be hidden in that abandoned old name, in a holiday that no one cares about, or beneath those scars deliberately covered by sleeves.

She wanted to try her luck.

Lin Xiaoman, carrying a tray, knocked on the door of the guesthouse.

Leng Feng stood three steps behind her, his gaze sharp.

The door opened, and Baker's pale, indifferent face appeared behind it. He glanced at the food in Lin Xiaoman's hand, then at Leng Feng behind her, said nothing, and stepped aside.

Lin Xiaoman went in and placed the tray on the small coffee table. The room was very tidy, but it also felt empty and lifeless.

"Dr. Baker, we have chicken soup today. It's been simmering in the kitchen for a long time. We Chinese love to drink this; it's very nourishing."

She spoke in Chinese, at a slow pace, in a clear voice, while her eyes carefully observed his reaction.

Baker seemed not to hear him, and walked straight to the single sofa by the window and sat down as if he were the only person in the room.

He didn't respond to Chinese? Lin Xiaoman wondered.